


I Am the Narrator

by thisplaceisunfamiliar



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Drowning, Gun Violence, One Shot, Other, narrator - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 00:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6063838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisplaceisunfamiliar/pseuds/thisplaceisunfamiliar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Have you ever wondered about that little voice in your head that allows you to read things in any voice possible? Well, that would be me; The Narrator! Read on to know more about your's truly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Am the Narrator

Hello, there. I presume you have read the title, so, naturally, there is no need for me to introduce myself. Well, that is what you people call me, is that right? I don’t exactly have a name. But, I don’t mind. It has a nice ring to it. 'The Narrator'. It does sounds quite extravagant, I must say. Haha, I might be getting a bit ahead of myself. You people have other people doing my job as a Narrator as well, correct? Well, I would sue if I could, but I have no real physical presence, so that’s out of the equation.

Moving on!  
I will now start by telling you a bit about myself. You may not be aware of this, but those of you who read to yourselves encounter me all the time, even if you are not fully aware of my existence. I am that little voice that translates the words for you to understand.  
What voice are you giving me right now? Am I a man? A woman? A child? Do I sound like that Morgan what’s-his-name fellow? Am I young or old? Do I have an accent? I bet I sound British. That would be nice. Haha, it’s quite intriguing how your mind can change my voice in an instant. How amazing the human brain is! I can speak any language, you know. But for now, I will be using English, as it is the international language. 

“It would be a bit queer if I would narrate myself, wouldn’t it?” They asked the reader.

See? It’ll be too much work for poor old me! And there would be too many of those “quotation marks”. Pesky little things, they are. I am the Narrator, for crying out loud! I have no need for quotation marks! That’s for characters. Oh! And speaking of characters, would you like me to introduce a character into this story?  
Me rambling on about myself for this whole story would be an absolute bore, wouldn’t it? Who would want to listen to a mysterious being that has existed ever since mankind learnt how to read? Hahh, I’m getting ahead of myself again… Oh, get a hold of yourself, Narrator! Don’t lose the reader’s interest now!

Ahem.

The door creaked open to a desolate room, its white interior and lonely atmosphere reflecting the fluorescent lights above. A single man of average build and average height stepped in, eyeing the room curiously. He was around his early 20’s. His honey irises complemented his auburn hair, curled and short. “What in the-”

Ah! My warmest greetings to you, my friend.  
“Wh-who are you?!” The man stuttered, searching around the room for the source of the voice. “Stop that!” You are a newly-born character in a story, but I won’t tell you that, because that would let you develop a sense of self-awareness, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?

…

Oh. My bad.

“What?! What the hell are you on about? And who are you?!?” He demanded, balling his hands into fists. “And stop saying everything I’m doing! It’s plain stupid!”  
Oh, but it is my job to do so, uhh… let’s call you Jeffrey. How’s that?  
“Just, shut up for a second! Wh-where am I and what the hell do you mean I’m a newly born character?” Jeffrey yelled, getting more infuriated by the second. “Shut up, I said!”

I heard you the first time, Jeffrey. Would you mind letting me explain for a moment, please? It is terribly difficult for me to do that if you are yapping on and on like that. “What did you-”

Jeffrey, please.

And with that, he didn’t utter a single word, he wasn’t sure if he should be annoyed by the outrageous situation he has been put in or by the voice saying everything he’s thinking. “Are you going to explain yourself or what?”

I am the Narrator. You are in a white room, a basic setting that was thought of at the spur of the moment. I am simply entertaining a reader at the moment, so, do as you please for the time being. Tell me any location you want to be in and I’ll make it happen.  
“Now, why the hell would I do that?! And all this for the entertainment for some random reader? How can I trust you?” Jeffery asked, a hint of challenge in his voice.

Now, now, Jeffrey. Aren’t you being a little melodramatic? Isn’t this a great way of starting out in a story? You are lucky enough to be allowed to choose your own setting, you know. Not all characters get to have such a golden opportunity like you. You can go on a grand adventure! A quest! A journey! What do you say, Jeffrey?

“Even if I do get to choose my own setting, have an adventure or whatever, my whole existence up until that point would all be meaningless. And that’s just sad.” Jeffrey answered, sharply.  
But, your life won’t be meaningless! You have the readers to watch your every step, and I will say everything you say, do and think. I can make your life ideal, if you agree. Come on, Jeffrey!

“No! I don’t want to live a life knowing that every waking second is to entertain some reader. I want to live for myself and those close to me. So, I’m sorry, but I refuse your offer, Narrator.”

Well…  
You leave me no choice.

The room morphed into a blue ocean. The white walls and the floor vanished in an instant and was replaced by water. The silence of the room was broken by the sound of crashing waves. Jeffrey fell into the ocean, waving his arms about, struggling to stay afloat.

“Help! H-help me!” He gurgled, thrashing around, wildly. His efforts were futile however, as he could not swim. “Wh-why are you doing this, Narrator?!” He screamed.

I’m sorry that it had to end this way, Jeffrey. It was the first death scenario that came to mind.  
“Why couldn’t you have someone shoot me instead?!” His arms were getting tired, talking wasn’t helping. “Shut. Up!”

Well, now that you mention it, that would be a better way to go. Would you like me to change to that?  
“Yes!” He was starting to swallow more seawater now. “Please!”

As you wish.

And with that, the water decreased in volume and Jeffrey could feel his feet touch the floor once more. The water slowly drained from under him, leaving him on the damp floor in the white room.  
He coughed and spluttered, every muscle in his body ached. As soon as he saw the door, he quickly pulled himself up and booked it. Jeffrey grabbed the doorknob with both hands with a firm grip, he opened it.

BANG.

…

He was shot.

Jeffrey crumbled onto the floor, gasping from the sudden shock. His expression contorted into a mixture of pain and horror. He could barely move, he felt light-headed. Death was slowly taking him. He could smell and taste the metallic scent of his own blood as well as seeing its deep crimson pour out of his chest. “All this...to entertain some damn reader? Christ…” His heart ceased its beating, so as his breathing.

…

Well, that’s that. I hope you enjoyed this story, even if it wasn’t as… 'pleasant' as I hoped it to be. What? He wasn’t cooperating. I had to. 

Until next time, farewell.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a short story I had to write for class. Tell me what you think! And don't forget to Kudos if you liked it! ^^


End file.
